Hogwarts Bijou
by ArchArtistWriter
Summary: FINISHED! (Jumps for joy) A story about the tradition of bijou (if you don't know what that is, it's all the more reason to read it) in Hogwarts - set in my own Hogwarts. R&R, people!
1. Default Chapter

Right. So, what shal I say... please review if you like this. I kinda did. Anyway, I got the idea from a certain story I once read and I thought it would be really cool to do it with Hogwarts instead. I hope you enjoy this and I guess I 'm just writing this for writing's sake, sitting here, waiting for someone to review...  
  
Bon appetite!  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Prologue.  
  
No one really wondered what Pettigrew would be like when he grew up. Little Peter Pettigrew, blonde and unassuming, somewhat naive: his naivity was not conscious, however, although it often seemed like it. Rather, it was his complete unawareness of it that was something teethering to the edge of slightly annoying.  
  
An example of this - indeed, many an example of this - could be shown during a class under the eyes of a particular master named Yeats.  
  
Yeats was the senior Herbology master, a tall man of roughly fifty years, handsome yet strangely unappealing. During classes, Pettigrew would sit, gazing into theoretical space: occasionally, asking a question that would practically beg the exasperation and groans of the class. Then he would smile, as if pleased with the reaction he had caused but his naivity was the cause, and that was obvious.  
  
However, I digress. This Yeats was not the nicest of masters, particularly to those as mentally ill-endowed as Pettigrew: He would make waspish comments and would often pretend to mistake the boys name for Lettigrew - the name of a rare enough plant that caused the swallower severe, occasionally permanent, forgetfulness.  
  
Pettigrew had a round face, somewhat similar to the puddings often on display during the feasts that were laid out on the tables of the Great Hall. His blonde hair was often plastered to his round, babyish cranium, his cheerful blue eyes emphasising his painful lack of awareness; his tie would be neatly place, an elongatedrhombus resting between the triangular open of his school cloak and the stiff collars. His shoes would be shiny. And, besides being hopeless in classes, he was rubbish at games. Indeed, Pettigrew only became famous in Hogwarts because once, when asked by a frustrated McGonagall - "What are you planning to do with your life, exactly, Pettigrew?" - he had replied, "Dad's in the button business," that benign smile on his face. "Pettigrew's, you know."  
  
But noone, of course, did know. 


	2. Prologue continued

Prologue ii  
  
~  
  
There were four other boys in particular, also in Pettigrew's year, three of whom were in his house, which was Gryffindor.  
  
Unlike Pettigrew - Peter Pettigrew - James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin did not attract the unwanted, cruel attention of Yeats, were bright, funny, good at sport and most of all, were handsome and mentally able.  
  
They - apart from maybe Remus - had a certain, rugged charm about them: Ties tied any old how, shoelaces knotted in several places, shirts sometimes untucked, cuffs and collars unbuttoned and a fresh, rascally look on their faces, quite contrary to Pettigrew's annoying chubby cherubism.  
  
All three came from quite different backgrounds: Sirius was an orphan; he had elevnsiblings, all younger than him, living alone in an old, stone, Scottish farmhouse. Remus was a French speaking Belgian. His father was a magical theologian, his mother a mysterious figure from Morocco who could speak no common language although her love for Remus was very obvious. Only James, and he alone even when I do introduce the fourth character, was the slightly better than Middle-class young Englishmen, his ways of speaking earning the friendly ridicule of Sirius whose thick Scottish accent made him stand out, but caused people to listen to him a bit more (and win rare smiles from McGonagall). Remus would merely smile in his way, a mischievous glint often visible in his brown eyes. Unlike the case of Sirius, his French accent made him seem shy (he was anyway) and unusually quiet, though in reality, one could argue he was the silent mechanism working in the clockwork of their friendship.  
  
It was the joke that Pettigrew had discovered true happiness, egged on by it's ancestor, "Dad's in the button business, Pettigrew's you know," that caused a bizarre alliance be made between the three and Pettigrew.  
  
* * *  
  
One of the many traditions of Hogwarts, amongst the students, unspoken and as old as the very stones that built the magnificent institution, was the tradition of the bijou. This, is where the fourth I first mentioned, came in.  
  
Severus was an enigma. A quick tongue, having been brought up by oath- relatives in the slums of Rio di Janeiro, his Spanish accent (My how all my interesting characters ain't English, c'est interestant, non?) making him set apart to the girls and more often, to the senior boys.  
  
The tradition of bijou started in a greta variation: swift, soft glances across the hall, leading to notes left in pyjamas or closets, meaningful words indicating to walks and meetings in secluded places in the school grounds, it would then blossom, sometimes magnificently, into a friendship of sorts. This friendship was sometimes quite flattering to the more homesick first year boys, to others a trifle unruffling.  
  
Severus Snape arrived late by two weeks and was first spotted by the Marauders - for that was what James, Sirius, Remus and Peter had decided to call themselves - at the Slytherin table, quietly sipping orange juice, toying with pancakes lightly touched by honey and quietly sitting, reading a large enough volume. Whilst they were whispering about the strange, new boy - his pale tan and black eyes ("Definitely a changeling if I ever saw one,"), his sleek, shoulder length hair, raven black and giving him an enigmatic look - he suddenly glanced up and caught sight of them from across the hall.  
  
They froze.  
  
No response made, nothing flitting in those dark eyes, the boy returned to the volume. The Maraders could only look at each other astounded.  
  
Anyway, as I pointed out before, Severus was mysterious enough, handsome enough to catch the eye of many a fifth, sixth and seventh year. Indeed, he was taken by a Raveclaw favourite named Tern, Alfred Tern.  
  
It held true for the other boys as well, the partnerships seeming like magical incantations on the tongues of others: 'Willenhold and Lupin', 'Kerr and Potter', 'Bearer and Black'... on it went.  
  
Not all boys were chosen of course.  
  
Some that did not have obvious bijou qualities were resigned to the fate of, or sometimes, fortune of, never having an illicit taste in the sexual aspect of Hogwarts. Some that did not have obvious qualities were taken on, much to the wonderment of fellow first or second years: Until they themselves enetered fifth year or above and could understand and see different qualities other than the scathingly obvious.  
  
Pettigrew was not one of them.  
  
"Lonely, eh?" James had once teased, aiming a paper aeroplane at the back of Lupin's head. Pettigrew had shrugged and smiled.  
  
"I'm happy enough," he replied.  
  
"Yeah, you an' the res' o' yer but'ons, hm?" Sirius laughed. He was actually loosing most of his Scottish accent by now and had resigned to a more boyish version of McGonagall's tongue-tweak.  
  
Remus had thrown a glare at James and lobbed over a crumpled bit of paper.  
  
"Vicious demon!" James yelled, earning a grin from his Belgian friend. Remus didn't speak much as it was, so whether his accent was disappearing or not was his own mystery.  
  
Pettigrew laughed.  
  
"I'm alright, really."  
  
Classes shared with the Slytherins were at a minium in those days, only non-compulsive lessons would occasionally be shared, such as Magical Languages, and it was through those that they began to know Severus.  
  
He and Remus almost instantly hit off. Being more foreign than Sirius or James, the continential in-jokes flowed thick and fast between them. They were also both quiet; unneccesary chit-chat was cut out between them, sly glints in the eyes, egging on their comrades. The worst came, of course, when either of them would start swearing in either a Belgian or Brazilian dialect.  
  
James had grown used to Severus and Sirius seemed to be torn betwen amusement, admirance (does that word exist?) and wariness of the Slytherin.  
  
Still, an unspoken agreement had come between the five now, Pettigrew being as oblivous as ever to whether Severus was slightly different or not: he could have been a Turkish spy for all he cared, and although it was difficult, a kinship sort of... grew.  
  
* * *  
  
I think I mentioned before about Alfred Tern, yes, the Ravenclaw sixth year that had 'selected' Severus.  
  
Perhaps 'favourite' does not describe suffiently, his standing in Hogwarts: a Prefect and House Team Captain, Tern was a school favourite, revered by all below and above him. The fact that he had chosen Severus, placed both in a higher esteem. As they say, Kings shall have Queens: the two were almost like a legendary pairing.  
  
However, the interest that had led him to the quiet Slytherin, had grown into a passion: it was not uncomon to see Tern wait outside the Slytherin common room, only to be met by an exasperated Snape, or to see the two talking conspiratally together down the corridors. It made them seem aloof, different from all the cosy, on-existant reationships buzzing around them.  
  
One of Tern's team mates, was a heavy set boy by the name of Fischer. Tobias Fischer.  
  
And now, I am beginning to have even mentioned the name... 


	3. Chapter I

Chapter 1: Morpheus' cap.  
  
  
  
"Now that really is awful," Dumbledore shook his head. His students affectionately called him the WB, standing for White Bumblebee. James, Remus, Sirius and Peter were standing around their headmaster with a great multititude of others. "Yeats can be a frightful man."  
  
"God, jus' listenin' ter 'im a' Pettigrew, 'ere... yer'd think the boy 'ad no feelings!"  
  
"None at all." Remus nodded.  
  
"Well," Dumbledore turned his kindly blue eyes to the blonde, chubby student. "You take no notice... if it gets to any problems... just tell me, yes?"  
  
"Yes sir," Pettigrew muttered shyly, smiling that smile of his.  
  
Dumbledore, esteemed by many to be the greatest wizard ever and of his time, was sympathetic and listened to the problems his students suffered at hands of other masters. He would nod and shake that white beard of his, sometimes stroking it in thought. Above all, he was considered quite wise, but Severus often felt uneasy about him. "I don't know why," the Brazilian would shrug, his accent mostly gone. "He just makes me feel... strange."  
  
It was as they were about to go to bed, that Pettigrew stopped short at his pyjama trousers and looked at a small scrap of paper, brow furrowed as if in deep concentration, before he smiled nervously and laughed according to the temperment.  
  
"H-hey!" He called. "Look at this!"  
  
James, Remus and Sirius walked over t his bed, nudging each other knowingly and suppressing victorious giggles. They had known that soon enough, Pettigrew would read the note and had actually been waiting separetly in their own respective bed-corners of the dorm, for the announcement to be made. Now, they, as ever the expertistes, made their way over with polite beffuddlement (now that *is* a word I made up: Lewis Carrol rules!), covering up shouts of excitement.  
  
"What?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Here, look: some bloke wants to go out with me for a walk!"  
  
A suitable stunned silence followed.  
  
"Look: 'If you would like to, I'd be pleased if you could come round for a walk with me behind Greenhouse Three. Half past two, Wednesday afternoon." Pettigrew paused. "T.J.A. Fischer."  
  
Sirius put on an exaggerated look of dark puzzlement. "Ah, now, that is odd. A walk by Greenhouse Three, eh? Hmmm..." He rubbed his chin wearily, giving Remus a furtive wink. Remus snorted. "Oui, oui!" He added. "But... wait!" He took the note quickly from Pettigrew's hands and showed it in a mysterious manner to James.  
  
"Jesus Christ!" James exclaimed suddenly.  
  
"Yer've go' an admirer, Pettigrew!" Sirius laughed at Pettigrew's bewilderment.  
  
"A what?"  
  
"An admirer." James repeated.  
  
"'E wants you to be 'is bijou," Remus explained, his accent now souding like something more Londonish and it was definitely more obvious now. James slapped him on the back.  
  
"Now you've done it, Moony!"  
  
"What's it mean, bijou?" Pettigrew asked.  
  
"Tart, it means." James added, looking calmly at his nails but resisting the turmoil of belly-aching laughs and hoots of glee. The trick had worked!  
  
"Tart?"  
  
"Friend. He wants to be your protector."  
  
"What's it mean, protector?" Pettigrew was growing paler and paler, as if bijou's and tarts and Fischers were all some sort of terrible affliction. He looked the way he did during Potions when they had to cut out Frogs bile ducts. "I don't like the sound of this-"  
  
"Nonsense. He loves you."  
  
"I don't even know the bloke."  
  
"Yeah," Sirius winked. "That one who sits near Tern, you know who Tern is? Sev's protector..."  
  
"Yes..."  
  
"Big forehead...?" James expanded, gesturing with his hands into something like oblivion. Infnity that were wound like strands of magic around his fingers. His green, elfin eyes glinted. "Glasses... redhead..."  
  
"'E's an 'alf-wit actually," Remus smiled.  
  
"Half-wit?" Pettigrew spun round to meet the werewolf.  
  
"Oh aye, mother let 'im drop on the 'ead when 'e was a wee bairn," Sirius teased. "Like yours did."  
  
"Mine never!"  
  
The note was passed around the common room when Pettigrew was dragged unwillingly into it. It was passed around the girls, too, who were very much aware of the secret world of bijou. Indeed, something similar was a strong tradition amongst them as well. Everyone was half-laughing, half- wondering why Fischer would write such a note to somone like Pettigrew. Everyone knew who he was really after...  
  
"What's your dad do, Pettigrew?" Longbottom, slightly older than the Marauders, asked mockingly. "Buttons was it? Imagine! Fishes and-"  
  
"Buttons!" Answered a plump girl with red hair.  
  
"Trouts and Ebony!"  
  
"No, no, no... it'd be Salmon Pearls...."  
  
The joke about fishes and different types of buttons was spreading all around now. Soft laughter from the more polite girls and shaking heads amongst the crowd.  
  
"You better write to him, then..." A boy who went by Fletcher, piped up.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Look, like zis..." Remus grabbed a quill and began to scribble down on a scrap of parchment: "'Ow do you start?... Chere..."  
  
"No, Remus," a girl named Evans, Lily Evans spoke up. "Dear... not Chere."  
  
"Ah, oui... pardon... Dear... Fischer-"  
  
"-I LOVE YOU!" Someone shouted out and everyone laughed loudly.  
  
"Look, I don't even-" Pettigrew started again.  
  
"For God's sake, man... it doesn't matter... just put in his pyjamas..." James coaxed quietly from behind him. "Go on.... Everything'll change then... for you I mean...we're trying to help... You're making us feel bad..."  
  
"Oh, alright!" Pettigrew answered crossly. "I'm sorry to offend, just that- never mind," he sighed, "I will."  
  
James grinned furtively at Remus and Sirius who grinned back.  
  
* * *  
  
"That was mean." Severus frowned in the darkness. "Remus-"  
  
"It's jus' a joke!" Sirius flared up. Severus merely looked at him, impassively with those dark eyes, and Sirius felt his temper fade away. "I mean, look...." But the dark haired boy merely sighed and shook his head.  
  
Turning to James, he added softly: "And you! You know Fischer is after you..."  
  
"I won't have him." James replied swiftly and shortly.  
  
"I'm not saying you have to," Severus added quietly: the boy hardly ever shouted, but his message was often put across quite forcefully. James felt as if his older sister or his mother were giving him a lecture whenever Severus would speak to gently in a rebuke. "But you shouldn't toy with people's affections like that." He smiled ruefully, "but it can't be helped... I'm probably just being..." he shrugged rather than find the right word for it before turning away and walking toward the Slytherin chambers, leaving the three Marauders feeling rather uncomfortable.  
  
* * *  
  
It had happened quite conveniently, reader:  
  
  
  
Fischer had crept into the Gryffindor common room, using a password from a Gryffindor friend - the school was a lot more trusting and inter- house friendships were all too common - and had entered the dorm he had seen James sleep in.  
  
There, he had written the note and slipped it under James' pillow before walking out with as little fuss as possible: The Fat Lady had been put under a forgetful smoke and so she had not paid much attention to who had walked in or not. He smiled grimly to himself before hurrying off to Charms.  
  
When James had entered the dorm, with Remus by his side, he had noticed Remus becoming alert. He only had a week until full moon so James asked what it was.  
  
They followed the trail of magic and the different scent of Fischer to James pillow where they had found the note. There, James had muttered a plan to the werewolf who grudgingly accepted it and went off to tell Sirius about it. James had then placed the note in Pettigrew's pyjama bottoms. A harmless, child's prank.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
"He's alright, really, that Fischer."  
  
Lupin nudged Potter and had to turn away to stop the giggles coming up. Black merely looked on in a slightly amused way, watching Pettigrew examine his face in the mirror as if cecking for facial hairs like a boy older than he. He shook his headand smiled before pulling a towel and throwing it around his neck.  
  
"Ah, now... Don't tell me you 'ad a nice li'l dream abou' 'im, righ'?" Sirius grinned.  
  
"Well, no..." Pettigrew frowned. "Jus', well... no harm in going for a walk."  
  
"None at all!" James said brightly.  
  
"Hrrm," Remus' silent giggles subsided. He glanced over at Sirius who gave him an uneasy look in return. Sirius was still thinking about what Severus had said last night.  
  
But the error came to light only when Pettigrew had gone off to the Greenhouse Three and had come across Fischer. Of course, Pettigrew was only a humble first year, nothing to Fischer at all, but he knew that first- years were often stupid and so he turned his back and began to whistle, not noticing the glint made by James' glasses. However, when Pettigrew kept on staring into his back and wouldn't move, still facing him, the sixth year turned round. "What?" He asked.  
  
"Hello Fischer." Pettigrew managed a smile then gulped.  
  
"Piss off, I'm waiting for someone."  
  
Pettigrew hid his confusion with his annoying, blank smile. "I'm Pettigrew, Fischer."  
  
"I really don't care."  
  
"You write that letter, Fischer," Pettigrew was still smiling, albeit slightly nervously. "About a meeting behind Greenhouse Three, Fischer.... "  
  
"When?" He snapped, but his face was pale and he was now watching Pettigrew intensely. "What meeting? What the fuck are you talking about, first-year? Is this some-"  
  
"You put the letter in the pyjamas, Fischer..."  
  
"God! I thought...James...pillow..." Fischer unstuck his throat and gasped before striding back into Hogwarts, away from the hoots of laughter coming from the corner where the Marauders had hidden themselves.  
  
Pettigrew turned to them, laughing himself and shrugging with mirth. "Knew it was something like that..." He laughed a bit more then stopped as did Sirius and Remus.  
  
~  
  
Review, people! Review! 


	4. Endless Oceans

I want to thank those who helped me write this.... William Trevor who has no idea I even exist but wrote the story that inspired this. To Annabel Paige, Suzanne Ipe and Oliver. Yes, you Oliver. Mwahahahahahahahahahaha.  
  
Chapter 2: Endless Oceans.  
  
Lily sat next to James at the breakfast table. Sirius watched the two talk animatedly and smiled to himself. He could imagine how James would feel if it turned out that Lily's attention to him was all just a hoax.  
  
*But it was just a joke* -Did you see the guy's face? *Ack, he'll get over it* -As if he'd seen a grim *Getting paranoid, Sirius* -Imagine how you'd feel if someone had done that to you... *Ahhh, who would?* -Severus.  
  
Sirius jerked to life so suddenly, pumpkin juice was jilted over the table cloth. James and Lily gave him enquiring looks, but he shook his head. "Nothing, really..." Pettigrew was eating heartily and trying to talk to Remus. Being, after all a true Belgian through and through, Remus did like to talk even though he was quiet. This morning he had bravely attempted to strike up conversation with the boy. It wasn't a complete failure, however... Only Sirius was in a totally sober mood. And even that made him feel stupid, with no firm footing. Sighing, he lowered his eyes to his breakfast. It had been two days since that trick they had played on Fischer, but, despite it being only two days, a definite look of depression had taken place and hung over Fischer like an ugly, omnious cloud. He sank into ennui greater than ever before and now, even his glances thrown at James were desperate. Severus had gone down with a very serious bout of what had at first looked like flu but now was seeming more and more like TB. Apparently, he had keeled over in the Slytherin common room after coughing up blood for several minutes. Sirius was actually more surprised by the feeling of worry and anxiousness he was experiencing in his gut because of Severus: He never thought he cared for the Slytherin that much.  
  
* * *  
  
As an apparent source of comfort, Pettigrew had turned to Theology. James had told everyone - from giggling girls to the older, wiser sixth years - that Pettigrew had just missed out on his chance for something beautiful to happen to him. He was drowning his sorrows, James would sigh dramatically, in religous and philosophic pursuits. Much sniggering would come after this and when Pettigrew, bleary-eyed from his sleep, would enter, laughter would greet him. In truth, Pettigrew had, actually. Although not in the way it appeared. He had joined a group of boys that had taken after following Professor Dirkes, the Theology master. Amongst this group, he was treated with a certain sort of reverence. Most of the boys were those whom Pettigrew had first known in the days of Fear as little first-years. It was hard to believe they were nearing their second year: only two weeks until the holidays. Professor Dirkes was a thin man with locks similar to those of Dumbledore's. His eyes were a pale brown, sometimes quite watery. Although he rarely smiled, he had a pleasant nature. There was a rumour flying through the school that many of his meetings with his little group of acolytes were ended with 'orange squash and biscuits'. For boys like Sirius, this was a hillarious joke and they often teased the boys dedicated to Dirkes like hell. By the time Severus had recovered, Dirkes and his young acolytes were an almost well-established ethnic minority. It was something that even the serious Brazilian found it was funny. Needless to say, the young Snape would never have admitted to it. Life at Hogwarts continued in it's normal fashion, the sharp light of Spring, followed by the long, lazy stretches of Summer. Of course, there would come the Summer holidays, with freinds departing on promises of visits and numerous owls, or the happy exclamations of "We're going to my aunt's... see you in September!" and such of the like. This did not exclude the Marauders - although perhaps Sirius as there is only so long that the Presbyterian church founded charities would look after eleven ragged orphans all under the age of thirteen - who cheerfully waved Sirius off at Hogsmeade (where he would take a train to Glasgow) and then did likewise to each other at Kings Cross. Since we last saw them, time had flown and they were now older third years. Next year, they would be fourth years. Their educational fate was a triful thrilling. But, by that time, one would be considered a fool, if they did not recognise Fischer's increasing air of gloom and despair. By the time the Marauders and their fellow year mates had reached third year, Fischer had taken on an apprentiship for Dirkes. Tern had left, quite happily and leaving a slightly relieved Severus, but Fischer was another thing altogether. He would no longer speak to James, but always looked to the boy, his glances, or now, stares becoming more and more desperate and obvious. Still, James fobbed him off. Well, what else would he do? When the Marauders arrived and - late this time by two days - Severus as well, they were too awed by the prospect of fourth year to think much of Fischer. It was only during their first Magical Languages class, when Severus quietly asked, "What has become of Fischer?" Due to the fact that he was late arriving and so had missed out on start of year gossip. Silence had answered his question. After that day, it seemed, rumours began to fly thick and fast through Hogwarts: "Fischer had been fired from his apprentiship and had wandered into the Forbidden Forest," or, "He got bitten by a werewolf - or a vampyre, whichever tickled the gossipers fancy - and Dumbledore had to get rid of him." "I heard he lost his mind in an explosion and had taken a new name and was now one of the representatives for the Ministry of Magic." On and on the rumours went. Truth be told, the students all expected something so bloodcurdingly extraordinary, as the teachers had become secretive and withdrawn. Dumbldore had missed the Sorting and had not been seen. The other teachers were so quiet and whispering. And always on about 'Fish... Fischer...' Then, on the third week of term, Dumbledore arrived. Rather than the expected delighted faces and eager voices, the eyes of the students strained and bulged in unflattering appraisal, watching the old, usually vigorous, teacher walk dejectedly, his skin ashen, his eyes pale. The Hall was silent. Dumbledore went to his seat. He stood and regarded his students, sadly, wondering. They dared not breath. What was the man going to do? The older students whispered of a public beating or the infamous hose of grit being inflicted on them all. Even Squeers, the Flying master, they whispered had been included. Dumbledore was going to punish them all for the underground bijou market, and, no doubt, of the female student equivalent. Dumbledore inhaled. "I stand here, in front of you all, an ashamed and dejected figure," his voice said. It did not boom. There was no hard-won pride in his voice. But all the students could hear him. "I wish that all this would cease. Any students who believes himself unhappy should come before myself or any of the teachers whom you trust and if you wish, it shall remain confidential." Noone understood that assembly. The teachers remained awefully tight- lipped over the matter. The business of bijou continued. The glances, the meetings, the illicit pleasures. Of all this, Pettigrew had no taste or secret dab of. He remained in all repsects, quite the virgin. 


	5. Chapter 5

Thanx to everyone that reviewed. To explain the gap between their fourth year and now, I will write a companion fic to this. But for now, just read my little thing about an alternative Hogwarts...  
  
For Stargazer, the only one who has noticed my little test...  
  
  
  
Chapter 3: Ramblings of a forgotten Prophet.  
  
Severus was going to be late, that was obvious, five minutes before the designated time. The Snape hated being late, even being five minutes early was slightly annoying to him, particularly when the fault lay with himself. James looked questioningly at Sirius who shrugged: it was quite amusing that although the two men were now lovers and lived with each other, often, Sirius would have less of a clue than the others of the wherabouts of his partner. It was an unspoken agreement that the two men preferred it that way. The spice of life can come in many variations. Lily was deep in talk with Marie, Remus' wife. The two women were quite a contrast to each other: Lily's transulcent skin reddish hair and green eyes gave her an elfin quality. Marie, on the other hand, was dark and exotic, her beauty slightly unsettling, complimenting Lily's ethereal looks and Remus' worn qualities. Lily was bouncing a gurgling Harry on her knee, Marie was gently holding her own daughter - Andromencha -whilst Remus attempted to communicate with Andromencha's eager, twin brother, Sebastien. James winked at Lily, who beamed at him, before returning to Sirius. "He said he'd be here," Sirius said, a hint of impatience in his voice.. "Well, you know," James took a sip of Boulanger. "He's doubtless on his way. Relax," he added. "Oh, I'm not worried," Sirius grinned. "I'm just trying not to get too annoyed with him." James chortled and looked down his glass before taking another sip. "At least he had the decency to tell me he may be late." As soon as he had finished saying this, Marie and Remus looked up to the dark figure who was taking off a long black cloak and coming towards them. The person took off his hat as well, revealing shoulder length hair. "Hello Severus," Lily smiled. "You took your time." Severus looked up at Lily and smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry. I hope you weren't waiting." A flick of the eye in Sirius's direction. "Something came up." "Not another rampaging Hippogriff, surely," Remus quipped. "Nothing like that I'm afraid," Severus gave a mock-dramatic sigh before taking the seat next to Sirius. A waiter had seen the table was full and came round to take their orders. When the waiter had left, Severus and Sirius had began to converse, although in voices barely above whispers. James waited until they had finished. "It's been some time Severus," he began. "Since we all sat like this... together." Severus nodded. Sirius squeezed his hand, unnoticed. "Funny... even the taste of victory has it's price." James continued, in a quieter voice. Marie nodded slightly and sidled closer to Remus. "We have lost colleagues, friends, the people we have respected the most." James gave a slight smile around the table. "But, that's the lesson of the world, is it not? Everything comes with a price." Sirius slipped an arm around his lovers waist and squeezed. "But we survived," Lily added slightly louder, smiling mischevously around the table. Marie smiled shyly. The others smiled: Yes, they had survived. When the food arrived, normal chat continued: Remus commented on Harry's growth, Andromencha demanded - as gently as any toddler could - for a taste of her father's champagne, Sebastien took it upon himself to waddle over to 'Unca' Dev' (Severus) and eat some of his dish as well as pointing at objects and saying "Dee!" It was over desert, that the conversation had taken a turn into the topic of 'Where are they now?' They had begun to discuss Dumbledore. "He was a fool." Severus said quietly and simply, his voice laced with bitterness. James looked up suddenly, and Lily's face darkened slightly. Marie had to comfort a slightly worrying Harry and Remus merely gave Severus an impassive look. "You never like him anyway," Sirius muttered. Severus snorted. "True, but I used to respect him. Like, I said: Dumbledore was a fool." He sighed. "I know, I know... he was a powerful wizard... a Healer and a War-mage, yes. But magic doesn't stop one being the equivalent of an idiot. And I wouldn't say that if I didn't know better." "Why do you say that?" Remus asked calmly. It could be considered quite true: Severus wasn't the only one who had considered some of Dumbledore's moments foolish. Severus sighed. Sirius could tell he was itching to light a cigarette. "Do you remember Fischer?" Silence. "Hm," Severus nodded grimly. "You know that assembly we had when we'd started our fourth year?" James gave an audible sound of agreement. "That was about Fischer. He had committed suicide during the holidays before. Found swinging from an oak in the Forbidden Forest." Severus took a small spoonful of tart. "Left a note. Hence our assembly." Sirius sipped at his champagne. The silence was a stunned one, decidely unpleasent and rather sharp. Lily looked at her husband in wonder. James, however, was looking at Severus' face and meeting his rather shaky gaze. "I know... n-now wasn't the b-best time I could have.... told you," the man stuttered quietly. "I just had to say something... he sent an owl to Tern you see... and back then," Severus gave another rueful smile. "Tern was still rather fond of me. I didn't want to believe it... Tern only hinted at it in his letter to me." "That's awful," Lily managed finally. "It truly is...." she looked at her husband again who, this time, returned the look. "You don't think Peter knows anything about this?" That was when the little bridge collapsed. The little thing that could have been used to salvage innocence, gone. "No." Severus said shortly. "Why-?" "He was found with his throat slit this morning in Knockturn alley," Remus murmured, answering as Severus paused. "Am I right?" "Yes." Severus whispered. "Yes, that's right." His voice was hoarse.  
  
* * *  
  
Sirius closed the door on them, switched on the hallway light and quickly held his lover round the waist, resting his chin in the crook of Severus' neck. "Sssshhhh," he murmured. Severus had begun to shake. "Ssshhh..." He could feel Severus trying to take control again. "You know that I know about the nature of your business..." Sirius murmured. Severus choked. "And... I get the feeling that Pettigrew was...-" "-Stop," Severus breathed. "Fine," Sirius carressed his partners neck with his teeth, lips and tongue. "Now listen to me love, and please don't be stupid enough to interrupt me..." Severus was still. "Did he say anything to you...? Anything at all?" "Like what?" "Regrets... curses, you name it..." He turned Severus around to face him. His lover's eyes were clouded. "No," Severus hung his head. "He was expecting me." He gave a self- mocking smile. "He's become quite the photographer, Pettigrew has. Several of us at school... all in Big Brother sort of style... as well as other students... teachers... He was the one who got all those shots for the Daily Prophet, the ones of all those corpses... the ones for the Ministry, not really for the public, of course." "Of course," Sirius murmured, kissing Severus lightly on the lips. "You still love me?" Sirius swallowed a laugh and raised an eyebrow. "You were an assasin even before we got together." "True." Severus gave another small smile. Sirius found his quietness quite irresistable and kissed Severus again, only with more fire. Severus gave him a knowing look, his eyes filled with appraisal. "Sirius..." "Hm?" His hands began to wander. "Pettigrew..." "What about him?" Sirus bit softly on the skin revealed by Severus' black shirt at his collarbone. "He sends his love." Sirius stopped and looked into the dark pits that were Severus' eyes. The very phrase chilled him to the bone. Pettigrew was dead... and yet still, he managed to creep him out. To cause a trill of fear in him. Severus sighed. "Well," he started matter of factly, breaking the stunned pause. "The bedroom is upstairs, Sirius... you know how much I hate making out on the staircase..." The Snape led him up the stairs. To the bedroom. 


End file.
